


Defiance

by hartrine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Terminus, The Prison, Woodbury, the saviors - Freeform, twd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8127013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hartrine/pseuds/hartrine
Summary: Henry and Maya Eastman along with their friend Paisley Bishop are the only survivors of their former group's massacre.They are taken in by people who live inside a prison. The people are kind and helpful whilst still being strong and powerful. The three friends fit in nicely with this new group and feel at home for the first time in weeks.Months of creating friendships and new found love go by when the prison is destroyed by the prison's enemy, the Governor, and his new soldiers.Once again, the survivors are taught that nothing lasts forever. Seven different groups have to re-learn how to survive in a world ruled by the dead before they too, are ripped apart from their family's grasps.Literally."The world is cruel, and we are the ones who defy that."





	1. Survior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Defiance! I hope you enjoy this work! I've worked hard on it, and I hope you'll like it! Cheers!

The boy's vision was covered in sparks. A light burned his eyes, but he couldn't shut them. Not yet. He tried to remember what had happened moments before. The boy and his group. They had many members. He could recall at least fifteen. They were walking to a prison. The prison some stragglers said would give them sanctuary. He and his group were almost there. He only remembered shots, screaming, crying. He remembered being pushed away by his father. The boy and his sister went tumbling off the road and down a small hill. Now he laid on the edge of the woods, not able to move or close his eyes.

He couldn't feel anything. His whole body was numb and felt sticky. He kept his sparkling vision locked on the clouds above him. He could see shapes forming. An elephant, a tiger, a gun, a knife, a walker. His eye lids closed at the image of the monster and did not open again.

\---

Rick Grimes and his friend, Daryl Dixon had this week for the supply run. It would be Rick's last run before he would tell the council he'd rather focus on the farms with Hershel. He knew they would understand. At least Daryl would. Maybe Michonne. He could count on Glenn and Sasha, he thought.

Ever since he quit the idea of being a leader, he had lost trust in everyone. Maybe it had been because he wasn't as hard, and didn't punish them if they betrayed him. He felt like a dictator. A king. He wasn't a king. He was a father. A father of two.

That's all he wanted to be when he was little. Rick Grimes always wanted little ones to call his own. Now he had them, and there was no time for ruling a kingdom. The council could do that. He could farm.

"Hey, hey, wha's that?" Daryl asked, pointing off the road as they passed. Rick looked over his shoulder, seeing bodies at the bottom of a small hill. Rick pulled the truck into reverse and backed up to the spot where the bodies were. There were at least ten or more. "The hell happened here?" Daryl wondered out loud.

"We'll check it out," Rick said, "maybe find survivors."

Daryl nodded and they walked down the steep hill. Rick immediately spotted a survivor. He had a severe head wound and a bullet to the chest. He sat him up against a tree and gave him some water. Daryl walked around a little more. He saw many bodies that were dead. He would kneel down and make sure they wouldn't come back.

He crouched down in front of two bodies. One laid over the other. He put one out, then went for the other. As his knife went down, a hand stopped him. The man's face was not dead, yet alive. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging, full of fear and worry. He took in three deep breaths before coughing up blood.

"My wife..." he said slowly, "she shot us all." The man let go of Daryl's arm. "I'm dying, I know this." He paused. "Are you a man from that prison? We were heading west... To find you." Daryl nodded, keeping his eyes on the man. "My children. They're alive, they have to be. Henry and Maya. Find them, please. Take them in, please, look after them. I... I can't die knowing they won't be taken care of." Daryl hesitated, and then somehow saw the whole man's life in his eyes. "Please," the man implored once more. Daryl could do nothing but nod. The man smiled and drew his eyes to the sky. "Now, give me mercy, will you?"

Daryl complied and took the knife through the man's brain. It was always hard when he had to make promises he couldn't keep. He stood up and looked around the field. No one seemed to be moving. No one but a small boy. He lay near Daryl, a hand on his stomach, blood pouring out of a wound. The boy panted and cried, in pain. The man rushed to the boy's side and knelt down.

As soon as he came into the boy's vision, another hand placed itself on his arm. "Help..." the boy sputtered. "P-Please..."

Daryl nodded. "I'm going to pick you up," he said, trying to get his arms underneath the boy. Cries of pain followed, but Daryl finally lifted him. The boy clung tightly to Daryl, terrified of falling. He carried the boy over to Rick who just ended the life of the surviving man. He shook his head, telling Daryl the man didn't make it.

Daryl placed the boy on the grass next to Rick who opened the first aid kit quickly. "There was a man who said he blocked his two kids. They may be alive, Imma look around."

Daryl left Rick to tend to the boy. He walked towards all the other bodies, examining all of them, putting down the ones who were dead. Suddenly, another man came stumbling out of the woods, blood dripping from his scalp. He was in his late teens or early twenties. Daryl immediatly went up to the boy and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You part of this group?"

"Ah... yeah, I think so," the man said. "Yeah. I am. Are they okay? Diana... she just... where are her kids? What about John? Alex? Are they okay?"

Daryl shook his head. "No one survived. Just a boy, he's over there, by that man," Daryl pointed at Rick who still tended to the boy, not paying attention.

"That's Henry... Diana's son..." the boy looked at the ground, then back to Daryl. "Is his sisters okay? He won't be able to live without them, man. 'Specially if his parents are dead. They're like a package, man."

"I'll find 'em. Go over there by Rick," he said sternly, "A'm Daryl."

"Paisley," the boy said, holding out his hand. Daryl shook it and then trotted over to the bodies again.

He walked around, and found a small girl, curled up in a ball shaking uncontrollably. She was by the old man who told him about his children. Daryl figured this was one of them. He knelt down at the girls side and touched her shoulder lightly. As soon as his fingertips pressed on the girl, she whimpered and shook more.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Daryl said matter-of-factually. "I'm here to help."

The girl stopped shaking and sat upright. Daryl saw her face. She looked much like the boy who had been shot minus all his freckles. He figured they were the children the old man and Paisley were talking about. Henry and Maya. The little girl had bloodshot eyes and tears smearing dirt on her face. "Are they... are they dead?" She asked quietly, her voice layered and light.

"No," Daryl replied. "Two survivors."

"Is one of them my brother?"

"Think so," Daryl replied. Then he stood, helping the girl up. They walked over to Rick.

"Are there any others?" Rick asked, taping the last of a bandage to the boy's abdomen. Daryl shook his head slowly.

"She's the only one," he said softly, leading the girl over to Rick. Daryl sat down at took a swig from his water bottle. "They okay?" He asked, pointing towards the shot boy and the man.

"Yeah," Rick said with a sigh. "I told the guy to rest, fell asleep right away. The boy said 'is name was Henry."

"That _is_ my brother," the smaller girl whimpered. "He... He's shot."

"He'll be okay," Rick said. "We have to get him back to where we came from." He stood up and woke the sleeping man. "Hey," he said to the now groggy new comer. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"What?" The man asked, holding his bandaged head. "Uh...I dunno couple dozen? Enough to keep me alive."

"How many people you kill?" Daryl followed, standing up, too. He took another swig at his water still paying close attention.

"I dunno. Couple dozen?"

"Why," Rick said in more of a declarative tone.

"Cause they were shooting at me and my family," the man said sternly. "Why are you askin' me all these questions? You think I'm some kind of psychopath or som'in?"

Rick bent down and took the man's pistol that situated on his belt. "It's a precaution. We don't want to bring in the wrong people."

"Well, did I pass?" The man asked quickly.

"For now," Rick said. He bent down and picked up the shot boy. "My name's Rick, this is Daryl. What's yours?"

"Paisley," the man said, he stood up and took the small and quiet girl's hand. "This is Maya." He looked down at Maya, the little girl. "We're gonna follow the nice men, now okay? They're gonna help Hen."

Rick carefully set the shot boy in the back of the mini van. Daryl climbed in the middle row with Paisley. Maya sat upfront with Rick who drove slowly. The car ride was silent except for the soft moans coming from Henry in the back. Maya curled up on the seat and made herself as small as possible. Rick still wasn't sure how she was coping with what had happened. He felt bad that her family had just been shot by each other. He wondered what these kids (and the man) had gone through. Where they were going. Where they came from.

The man said he had to kill people. More than a dozen. What did that mean? Rick wouldn't judge. He had to kill people too. His son killed people and he was still just a kid as small as Henry. It made him wonder whether he could trust this man and the kids or not. He told himself to ask the older boy the questions once he was better. Maybe he'd give him more answers.

Rick continued to drive the old van down the road. He passed trees and walkers just like always. Forests, walkers, the prison. That had been all he saw lately. Not much of any other towns since Woodbury. After a long and silent ride he finally pulled up to the road. In the distance he could see his son, Carl, and his good friend Glenn Rhee opening the gate for him and the others. The car flew through the red doors and into the prison courtyard. It was a large space, containing a farm, two barns, and a graveyard. Every time he passed he thought of his wife, Lori. She died while given birth to his new daughter, Judith who had been growing a lot since her mother's passing. He still thought about his son having to end his own mother's life because there had been no one else to do it. Rick remembered himself barely pulling through after he found out. His son was brave, sometimes almost too brave. Rick thought that maybe Carl and the shot boy could become friends. If he survived, that is.

Rick pulled up to the medical block quickly. Then, he helped Daryl carry the teenager into the cell block where the doctor would work on him. They laid him down on a soft bed. He was sleeping now, his heart beat faint and his breathing slow.

Doctor Caleb Subramanian was an accurate man. He had brown skin and black hair that was cut short. The doctor made sure to examine this boy without asking questions. He found the bullet wound and saw that the hunk of metal was still stuck inside him. The skin around the injury was greening and becoming infected. He checked the boy's temperate and found it to be higher than average, but still not a fever.

"What shot him?" Dr. S asked the three men and little girl. "Was it a hand gun? Rifle?"

"AK-107, far range," Paisley replied quickly. All heads looked to him, surprised he knew the actual gun. "Um... his mother had that gun. He... his mom... was the one..."

"His mother did this?" Caleb asked in shock.

"She and a few others just pulled triggers on all of us," Paisley explained. "Someone fell into me and I got knocked out, that's all I remember."

"She made sure most of them were dead," Maya said quietly. Tears welled in her eyes as she recalled the horrifying massacre. "There was blood everywhere. Bodies falling one by one. We... We were moving towards a prison. A few travelers back on the road said they heard rumors of prisoners picking people up and giving them a sanctuary. We were on our way here. Then my... she just pulled out her gun and fired on everyone. She called us weak. She said we didn't deserve the sanctuary."

Rick looked down upon the little girl. "Do you know where she is now?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. "Is... Is she coming here?"

Maya shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know."

"Where'd you hear these rumors from?" Daryl grunted, hoisting his crossbow further into his shoulder defensively.

"People passing by," Maya shook her head. "They talked about how a group held up by a prison said they cared for them and gave them food."

"Damn hun'ers," Daryl said harshly under his breath. "Shouldn't of let 'em go. Now everyone and their mother's gonna be showin' up at our doorstep."

"Isn't that a good thing? Give people sanctuary? Let them live?" Paisley said.

"We don't have a lot of room left. We've already got C and D filled as it is, and the tombs still aren't cleared all the way yet. We can't just have people on our doorstep all the time," Rick explained thoroughly. He turned to the doctor. "He gonna live?"

Dr. S stood up from the boy's  side and wiped his hands on a cloth. "He should. I'll get Hershel to help me remove the bullet. There's lots of muscle damage. The injury itself is minor, but I have to stop the bleeding. He'll die without blood."

"So you're saying we need a blood transfusion?" Rick asked, scratching his beard. "We don't know his blood type."

"It's B neg," Paisley said. All heads turned to him with surprised looks. "The leader of our group made us memorize everyone's blood type. In case something like this happened."

The doctor shrugged. "Life saving and smart."

Maya stepped closer to the cell. Her body still trembled. "Who can give him blood then?"

"I got B neg," Daryl said, leaning his crossbow against the wall. He sighed. "How much?" The man took a sit next to the boy laying in the cell bed. Daryl held out his arm. "Just take what you need."

The doctor hesitated, but then complied to Daryl's wishes. He stuck a needle through his arm and began the best transfusion he could.


	2. Whoops

Alright so... I kinda forgot about this archive account. I’m sorry. I recently found it again by going through my endless amounts of emails and I saw this got a lot of kudos. So if you’ve been enjoying this story, it’s on wattpad, too. I’m active there so you can find it here :)

https://my.w.tt/UiNb/5kWiAgSFfJ

So sorry! I hope you enjoy the rest, though. Love you all xo


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